it's hardly the same situation. she had a mother once, a long time ago. a fine mother, though she doesn't remember or think much of the life she had back then. but there's still something she relates to in all of this. the way someone can care for you with a tenderness that is violent, that you know is dangerous, but the gratitude and love you feel because you wanted someone to be tender towards you.
she was so alone for so many years and all she had was delilah, and she fought her and dismissed her and distanced herself from her as hard as she could, and eventually she gave up on trying.]
[isn't that a mood, camille. for once, she doesn't smile.]
Why?
[i do think she understands that this is a manipulation, something to make her small and helpless, the way she prefers, but she wants to not understand.]
[She does notice that. It helps some. Grounds the woman in her mind.]
She's sick. In the head. [In oh so many ways. Camille grimaces and tosses her hair, scrambling for the ease of dry recitation.] Munchausen's by Proxy. It's a behavioural disorder. Regular Munchausen's get attention by making themselves sick. The by proxy crowd gets attention by making someone in their care get sick.
[i guess it does cast some light on why camille is so pushy about these things. she wouldn't want to admit she sees a mother in delilah; delilah is awful. but camille has to see this in her own mother.]
About twenty years too late to do any good. But yeah, I helped.
[And for her trouble she was rewarded with a good man vanishing and a family tree reduced to cinders. From there it was a straight into Frank Curry's basement suite. Neither sister came with her.
Her throat seizes. Camille covers her eyes suddenly. Soundless, until she speaks through the choke.]
[Her lips pull in, half smile. She has to keep blinking or she'll start in on the waterworks. Have to hold it. Save the crying jag for an empty room and a pillow.]
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it's hardly the same situation. she had a mother once, a long time ago. a fine mother, though she doesn't remember or think much of the life she had back then. but there's still something she relates to in all of this. the way someone can care for you with a tenderness that is violent, that you know is dangerous, but the gratitude and love you feel because you wanted someone to be tender towards you.
she was so alone for so many years and all she had was delilah, and she fought her and dismissed her and distanced herself from her as hard as she could, and eventually she gave up on trying.]
...She poisoned you?
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Camille's eyes are wrenched shut. She's got her arms folded but white knuckles the fabric of her sweater.]
Yeah. [She pulls her lip in between her teeth for a wretched grin-cum-grimace. Biting down.] Momma loved herself a sick little girl.
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Why?
[i do think she understands that this is a manipulation, something to make her small and helpless, the way she prefers, but she wants to not understand.]
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She's sick. In the head. [In oh so many ways. Camille grimaces and tosses her hair, scrambling for the ease of dry recitation.] Munchausen's by Proxy. It's a behavioural disorder. Regular Munchausen's get attention by making themselves sick. The by proxy crowd gets attention by making someone in their care get sick.
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[i guess it does cast some light on why camille is so pushy about these things. she wouldn't want to admit she sees a mother in delilah; delilah is awful. but camille has to see this in her own mother.]
...You helped him catch her.
[but by risking her own life.]
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About twenty years too late to do any good. But yeah, I helped.
[And for her trouble she was rewarded with a good man vanishing and a family tree reduced to cinders. From there it was a straight into Frank Curry's basement suite. Neither sister came with her.
Her throat seizes. Camille covers her eyes suddenly. Soundless, until she speaks through the choke.]
I wanted help Marian.
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[she thought of marian in the memory. another little girl.]
A sister?
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[Another swallow. She pulls her hands away. Not crying, but just barely skirting the brink.]
She passed away when I was thirteen. I never realized what was happening to her.
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[so that's who she would have wanted to save with the wish.]
To sacrifice such innocent children to her whims. [hurting children is just one of those things that makes her ballistic.] I'm sorry, Camille.
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[Her lips pull in, half smile. She has to keep blinking or she'll start in on the waterworks. Have to hold it. Save the crying jag for an empty room and a pillow.]
...Thank you. Laudna.